


Tradition

by LiraelClayr007



Series: My 31 Days of Ficmas [11]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas Decorations, F/M, Fluff, Meddling TARDIS, Mistletoe, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiraelClayr007/pseuds/LiraelClayr007
Summary: When they walk inside Rose giggles and points up; a sprig of mistletoe hangs above their heads.“I don’t remember you hanging that there,” the Doctor says, eyebrow raised.“I didn’t,” Rose says, rising up onto her toes to kiss him.





	Tradition

“Hey, look!” Rose hefts an oversized cardboard box she’d found under the console. “I think the TARDIS wants us to decorate for Christmas.” She stumbles slightly, a combination of the weight of the box and the TARDIS shifting under her feet.

The Doctor makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “The house is already covered in tinsel. Isn’t that good enough?”

Rose opens her mouth to answer, but the TARDIS cuts her off with a burst of angry squeaks and squeals. Rose can’t contain her giggles. “I’m pretty sure it’s two against one, love.” She snakes an arm around his waist, snuggling up to him. He huffs in mock annoyance, then turns her in his arms to kiss her forehead.

“All right, all right. But you,” he says, turning to the TARDIS, “please don’t start playing ‘Jingle Bells’ or any such nonsense, alright?” From somewhere down the hallway, sleigh bells tinkle.

Rose whoops with delight.

An hour later the TARDIS is a winter wonderland...minus the snow. Lights twinkle from everywhere Rose could hang them, and even a few places she didn’t think it would be possible to make them stick. Live boughs of evergreen and holly twine about every pole and railing, and there is--to the Doctor’s great dismay--more tinsel. They even discover a small, live tree--not cut from a tree lot, but growing in a pot--sitting beside a box of ornaments. Every ornament in the box is a tiny replica of a sonic screwdriver. The tips even glow.

The Doctor, feeling cranky and contrary, insists that they go to a place exactly opposite Christmas, so he and Rose spend a sun-kissed afternoon on a secluded beach very like a tropical beach on Earth, except that the sand is orange and small native animals--they look a bit like rabbits--whistle through their ears. They swim in the warm water, which is slightly sweet rather than salty, and bask in the sunlight and in the glow from each other. By the time they walk back to the TARDIS the Doctor’s surliness has melted away.

When they walk inside Rose giggles and points up; a sprig of mistletoe hangs above their heads.

“I don’t remember you hanging that there,” the Doctor says, eyebrow raised.

“I didn’t,” Rose says, rising up onto her toes to kiss him.

He returns her kiss, holding her close.

“Not that I mind,” he says with a grin, when she pulls away.

She bites her lip. “Come on, let’s get out of our swim things.” She grabs his hand, pulls him down the steps, then stops. “Really?” she says. She points up again.

More mistletoe.

“Well, it  _ is  _ tradition,” he says, capturing her lips with his own.

They find seven more sprigs of mistletoe on the way to their bedroom. Or is it eight? They lose count. Their lips are red and swollen, their hair mussed. Once they stumble into a wall. By the time they stand in the doorway to their bedroom, another bundle of leaves and berries over their heads, they can barely stand up for their love and laughter.

“It’s the TARDIS, of course,” Rose says, in between giggles and kisses. “I think she just wants you to be happy.” There is a chime of agreement.

His next kiss is soft. “I am so, so happy, Rose.” He puts his hand on the doorway. “She takes good care of us, doesn’t she?” Rose snuggles into his arms.

After a moment or two the Doctor says, “Alright, let’s get changed.” He walks into their bedroom and stomps his foot in frustration.

“It was not necessary to hang mistletoe over our bed!”

The ship’s laughter goes on and on.

**Author's Note:**

> 31 Days of Ficmas || Day 11: Mistletoe


End file.
